42
The air in the cabin thickened with tension, every second stretching longer than the last. As Dominic approached the door, the nurse beside me stiffened, her face drained of color. I could see her fingers trembling, digging into the sheets like they were the only thing keeping her grounded, her wide eyes locked on Dominic’s broad shoulders, as if waiting for him to give some kind of signal.
I wasn’t imagining it. I could feel it too—*someone was in the house.*
The knock had been real. That’s what I told myself, even though the overwhelming fog of confusion and fever clung to my thoughts like a thick, sticky fog. Dominic reached for the door handle. The sound of his fingers curling around it echoed, sharp and final, before the door creaked open with a hollow groan, a sound swallowed by the torrential rain hammering against the roof.
He stepped outside.
My heart lurched in my chest, and I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or something else—something primal, something that told me that when the door clicked shut behind him, he might not be coming back.
The silence between us felt suffocating, and all I could do was stare at the door, waiting for the moment when it would burst open, or—worse—never open again.
Seconds dragged by. *One. Two. Three.*
The nurse shifted nervously beside me, her breath quick and shallow, her eyes never leaving the door. She muttered something under her breath, a string of prayers I couldn’t make out. I couldn’t focus on them—I couldn’t focus on anything except the pounding of my own heart, louder than the rain outside.
I was still holding the knife. I hadn’t realized it until then, but the cold steel pressed into my palm as if it could protect me from whatever came next.
Then, without warning, it came.
A grunt. A sound of struggle outside the door. I froze, my breath stuck in my throat.
Dominic’s voice sliced through the air. "Eleanor, they’re here—"
The grunt cut him off, and then bang! A gunshot. My blood turned to ice.
"Get a gun in the closet!" Dominic’s voice was sharp, frantic.
Everything inside me screamed, but my body was already in motion before my brain could catch up. I stumbled out of bed, my head throbbing like it was being split open by an invisible vice, pain coursing through me. My legs wobbled under me, but I forced myself forward, moving toward the closet as fast as I could. The nurse started to mutter more prayers, her voice high and panicked. But I couldn’t hear her, not anymore. All I could hear was the pounding of my pulse, the rushing of my blood, and the unmistakable sound of another gunshot.
Bang!
The walls of the cabin shook.
I threw open the closet door with a force I didn’t know I had, rifling through the shelves, shoving clothes aside. My hands were slick with sweat, my fingers fumbling. My head was a maelstrom of pain and panic. But I didn’t stop—I couldn’t stop. I had to find it. I had to—
There!
My fingers closed around the cold, metal grip of the gun. It was heavier than I expected, the weight of it oddly comforting in my trembling hands. I didn’t have time to check it—just grabbed it, spun around, and slammed the closet door shut behind me.
I turned to face the nurse. She was still kneeling by the bed, her face pale with fear. I could see her lips moving, but no words came out. The sound of more gunshots echoed from outside, and I could feel my chest tighten as I raised the gun.
“Stay low,” I ordered her, my voice surprisingly steady despite the chaos swirling around us. “Lay flat. Don't make a sound unless you have to.”
She nodded, her eyes wide and helpless, but she didn’t move. She didn’t get it.
But I did.
I had been raised in a world where the only rule was survival, and right now, the only thing that mattered was making it out of here alive. My fingers wrapped tightly around the gun, steadying myself, the cold metal digging into my palm.
Another series of gunshots rang out, making my whole body jump. My hands shook harder, but I didn’t let go of the gun.
The door creaked.
My head snapped to it, and the next thing I knew, the door burst open with a crash. A giant of a man stood there, his broad shoulders blocking most of the frame, his stance aggressive, his eyes locked onto the nurse.
*No. Not her.*
Without thinking, I raised the gun. My breath was ragged, my vision swimming, the pain in my head unbearable, but I steadied myself. My finger brushed the cold trigger, but the gun wavered in my hand, shaking. No. Don’t think. Just shoot.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady the gun in my hands, dragging in the oxygen as if it might be my last. My fingers trembled, the weight of the weapon unfamiliar and unwieldy. My vision blurred, pain throbbing behind my eyes, but I couldn’t let go. Not now. The nurse’s terrified breaths filled the room, fast and shallow.
He moved so fast, the giant of a man, his shadow swallowing the room as he lunged for her. His hands were huge, rough and unrelenting as they clamped around her arm. She screamed, clawing at him, her nails raking across his skin in desperate survival. Her eyes widened, locked on me, silently pleading for help.
I forced myself to aim, the barrel shaking as much as my hands. The ache in my head roared louder, like a beast clawing its way out. My pulse pounded in my ears, and I started a silent countdown, willing myself to take the shot. One. The room seemed to shrink. Two. The smell of rain, sweat, and fear filled the air.
Three—
The gun went off.
The recoil hit me like a truck, and I stumbled back, slamming into the closet behind me with a thud. Pain shot through my shoulders, but it was nothing compared to the sound of the gunshot. Deafening. Bone-rattling.
I blinked, my vision clearing just enough to see him drop. The man’s body jerked as the bullet struck his head, the impact brutal and final. He crumpled to the floor in a sickening heap, his massive frame now motionless. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and spreading fast, soaking into the wooden floor.
His brain… or what was left of it… was missing.
The nurse screamed, collapsing against the bed. Her wide, petrified eyes flicked between me and the body on the floor, her lips trembling as she muttered a prayer. Blood splattered her uniform, the crimson stark against the pale blue fabric.
My own breaths came in ragged gasps, my chest heaving as I lowered the gun. My arm was shaking so violently I had to use my other hand to steady it. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mixing with the lingering gunpowder. My ears rang, but not enough to drown out the storm raging outside.
“I got him,” I whispered, as much to myself as to her.
But then, as I moved toward the nurse, something made me stop. A flicker of movement in the doorway.
I turned, the gun rising instinctively, but there was nothing there. Just shadows.
The storm outside raged on, thunder rumbling like a growl of something alive. My eyes darted to the door, half-expecting it to burst open again. Every nerve in my body was on edge, every muscle taut and ready for another attack.
Then the door slammed shut.
The sound of it hit me like a physical blow. My body tensed, my heart skipping a beat. The nurse let out a startled yelp and clutched at the bedframe.
“What was that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My focus was on the door, on the shadows that seemed darker now, thicker.
Something was out there. Or worse—someone.
My grip tightened on the gun, ignoring the ache in my hand. My thoughts raced. Dominic was still outside. If the person—or thing—out there had gotten to him…
The silence stretched on, broken only by the rain battering the roof and the sound of my own ragged breaths.
And then I heard it.
A whisper.
Low and guttural, coming from somewhere I couldn’t place. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I spun toward the sound, gun raised. The nurse screamed again, pulling herself into the corner of the room as far away from me as possible.
“Who’s there?” I demanded, my voice shaking but loud.
No answer. Just the whispering, growing louder, closer.
I took a step forward, the floorboards creaking beneath me. The storm outside howled, but inside, it felt like everything had gone still.
Then, without warning, the lamp beside the bed shattered, plunging the room into near darkness.
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